


Family Isn’t Always Blood

by Illneverbethin



Category: Original Work
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, POV First Person, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28682805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illneverbethin/pseuds/Illneverbethin
Summary: They killed her. They actually killed her. They fucking killed her.





	Family Isn’t Always Blood

**Author's Note:**

> This is the same Female Character from the last original story

I’m lying awake right now. I’m covered in my own vomit from drowning myself in alcohol. I had the worst day at work.

I was pulled away from the field and to the office. My ears rang when I heard the three terrible words. 

She was dead. 

They repeated in my head over and over. 

She was dead. She was dead. She was dead. 

They killed her.

I had met her sixteen years ago. The girl was four, and she was twenty-two. 

Her parents were abusive towards her. I took her to the orphanage. She got transported to a lab.

Those assholes took her. I wanted to do anything to ensure her safety. They used me. For sixteen years. 

For sixteen years, they violated me. They raped me, spit on me, beat me, put foreign objects in me, used me as an ashtray, even used me as a urinal.

I was nothing but a stupid punching bag.

They took out my uterus to make sure I wouldn't get pregnant. 

I took everything they put me through. I visited her every day. Seeing her smile made me strong. And they still killed her. 

She was considered a daughter to me. My daughter is dead. They fucking killed my daughter.

If my twenty-two-year-old self knew that this is how it would play out, I would’ve sent that bullet straight through my brain without any hesitation. 

I don't give a shit if one of my comrades find me. They used me. Emotionally and sexually.

I picked up my revolver from my bedside table and put it against my chin.

The last thing I heard before I pulled the trigger was my last breath.


End file.
